


Ignorance Is Bliss

by meliore



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mental Health Issues, Murder, Not Canon Compliant, Oblivious Tony Stark, Other: See Story Notes, Tony Stark Has Issues, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 23:40:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16252175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meliore/pseuds/meliore
Summary: Tony is fully aware that at some point of his life -- possibly before the year ends -- he'll have to find a therapist. He chooses to ignore it when he can.Unbeknownst to him, this is not the only important thing he's ignoring.





	Ignorance Is Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> Death happens. In this case it's not the death of a 94 year old random grandma who likes flowers and cats and who Tony saw once.
> 
> This is not meant to be fluffy, happy, healthy or any other thing (romantic) relationships often get described (positively) as. Nothing Is What It Seems.
> 
> I think the idea of a surprise ending is cool, but I'm too insecure for that.
> 
> That aside:
> 
> 1\. my motto, You Only Live Once, is the thing that convinces me to post stuff. As a whole. Can be the most romantic, full of poetry thing you've ever seen and I need to think about it. Can be the darkest story I could write and I need to think about it. You Only Live Once so if this happens to be bad, out of character or anything...
> 
> Eh, that's life, I accept it and I won't claim this is perfect
> 
> 2\. random, but I've been writing ~darker~ things since the start of the month, though this is the first thing I'm posting.
> 
> For more information, you can read the ending notes. There are some spoilers, but if you'd like to know or if you feel... Afraid? Of reading this, you can read them.
> 
> This is unrevised!

Sometimes he felt sad for no reason.

Like that time he dropped a pen that belonged to Pep. It was an accident, both of them knew, it didn’t broke and the pen was not a special thing, she assured him.

And yet, Tony felt bad.

“Why was I even holding that thing?” he played along, but he had thoughts. “I shouldn’t do this. What if it was special for her? What if I had broken it?”

To be honest, Tony knew that this was not normal. He was not a teenager who failed to understand why his best friend thought it was absurd that Tony felt like he had to protect his head whenever someone made a gesture that included their hands going up. He knew that whatever this was -- depression or anxiety -- it was getting out of control and he should arrange an appointment with a therapist.

But to be honest about other thing, he didn’t liked the thought of therapy.

He needed it, because even taking the mysterious sadness out of the way he had nightmares no person should have. And the childhood _discipline_ , like his father called it, that still affected the way he acted and saw the world and he had trouble bathing sometimes because it felt like he was in Afghanistan again.

He still disliked it.

“I’m fine, I’m still in control, I don’t need therapy” was his belief regarding himself.

It was a personal thing.

If anyone said to him they were thinking about finding a therapist or finding any type of help, he’d pat them on the back, or invite them over for a drink -- if that was not one of their issues -- or even sit in the waiting room for one hour and ask them “How was it?” when they came out of the therapist room.

And if they lacked money and couldn’t afford the price a therapist asked for, he’d pay for it, or give them a job in the Stark Industries, if they fit the criteria, wanted it and could interact with people.

But him? He was fine the way he was. So much more people had their own issues, there was no way he could think he was not fine when he could be so much worse. Someone who is fine has no need for therapy.

A balance between knowledge and ignorance -- which is a bliss.

Even if he did need therapy, and even if he was not fine, his life was pretty good as it was.

His relationship with his housemates, who happen to be his team, is getting better.

Steve’s tone is becoming less patronizing and more friendly or fond of him, and when it’s necessary -- not as often as Tony thought it would be -- he waits for both of them to be alone and is direct and honest about whatever it is.

Although he wouldn’t mind it, because both of them are adults, Cap likes to be kind in his own mature way, and even when he’s talking about disappointments or even when they’re discussing, most of the time his mature kindness won’t leave his tone or the way he phrases what he has to say.

His analyze is not perfect, but he’s beginning to recognize the difference between a Bruce who would like some silence and a Bruce who would expose himself as a metalhead when Chop Suey began to play.

He jokes, but that day was really something else. He was about to ask JARVIS to change the song when he realized Bruce’s fingers tapping on the table.

“You want to hear that, sweetie pie?” he asked, because he’d rather be safe than sorry.

Which, in that specific case, meant he’d rather avoid a song than accidentally making Bruce upset. Tony disliked to make anyone upset if he liked them, but Bruce…

Bruce was important to him. Not more than other people were, but at the same time, more than other people were.

Tony realized he considered Bruce his best friend because of that; the only other people who made him feel the _more important but not but more_ thing were Pep and Rhodey.

“If I want to hear that?” Bruce smiled. “That is one of my favorite songs.”

They proceeded to dance and shake their heads.

It was nice. Maybe a bit childish, but so nice.

When the metalhead evil twin of Bruce Banner exposed himself, not always his playlist would include music. Sometimes he and Tony watched videos on YouTube -- usually from SciShow -- and debated if what was said on the video was right.

Tony had no shame in admitting that many times both of them were aware of what was, as far as they knew, right, but that they would debate with each other just for fun.

Barton began to get comfortable -- too comfortable, some could say -- around him.

He liked to flirt with Tony in the same playful way Tony and Bruce flirted with each other, except it was so hideous that Tony giggled.

Which only made it worse, actually.

“I want to hear that sound again,” Barton announced.

Tony didn’t avoid his giggles. From experience, he knew avoiding it could lead to being tickled, and Barton was a devil.

A devil who, in case he found out how ticklish Tony was, would take pleasure in being cruel with him.

And that wasn’t all. Barton could suggest giving him archery lessons, and worse than that, sometimes he sat next to Tony, silent, and gave him cold chocolate.

“Better than cold beer.”

Even his relationship with Natasha, which Tony knew was the most fragile relationship he had, inside the team or outside it, began getting better.

Instead of jokes or flirting or being kind even if they were correcting each other, Natasha limited herself to three things with him:

Smiling, never with her teeth showing. Barton said that it’s the smile she gives to someone when she’s feeling playful or happy.

Sitting near him, silent, which felt like a full conversation.

And last, but not least, studying his movements when the team sparred.

“I’m searching for a fight style for you,” she explained. “Something to match your movements, but something that’s within your knowledge of fighting.”

“I know how to fight,” he said. She shook her head.

“You know how to punch and how to defend yourself. That’s something, but it’s not fighting.”

He wanted to insist that he knew how to fight, but in the end, he understood what she said.

He knew how to punch and how to kick balls, or elbow someone's chin, and run.

She wanted him to know how to do movements like the ones she did -- meant to injure and to kill, depending on the person -- in his own way.

Barton felt like he needed to explain what she had meant, and Tony was actually thankful for that, because Natasha could be more secretive than him, and sometimes, he needed a translator.

“She likes you,” he said. “Not as a lover, but she likes you.”

“I don’t like… I don’t want to kill people.”

He shrugged.

“It’s important to her,” Barton explained. “She knows there are less risks you’ll die if we don’t notice you’re away from us in battle.”

It smells like guilt-tripping, but Tony falls for it. He just asks for a bit more time, to make himself ready for it, since he never learned that type of fighting.

Whatever it is.

Thor is not around. Tony has not seen him since Loki came to invade the planet. Still, he tries to think about what he’d like to talk about.

They all live in the Tower, and Thor is welcome to drop by if he ever feels like it. Tony is not so good if he’s not working alone, because interacting with people is the area of life he’s bad at, but lately…

Lately, he has become hopeful, and even the nightmares that wake him up or the moments where he feels like a complete failure can’t bring him down.

* * *

 

Steve goes out of the Tower with a bag, telling Tony he will visit places, but will not go too far. He goes to Washington, DC and he sends Tony letters and pictures from random numbers. When Tony says letters, though, he means  _letters_.

It’s cute, to be honest.

Steve comes back with his old pal, James Barnes.

 _I’m sorry, I should have given you a warning._ No, no, it’s fine. _Tony, I don’t think he was anywhere to stay--_ What? He can stay with us. _Really?_ Yes, of course, Cap. I only want to know how he’s alive, if you’re willing to tell me.

So, when the glassy-eyed man is lying on the couch of Tony’s living room, looking like he’s out of the world, Steve gives him all the information he has.

Which is not too much, only that HYDRA is active, and his best friend is alive. It’s more complex than that, taking in account how much Steve said, but those two things are the base of what he has to say, and they’re what Tony heard.

Tony welcomes another man in his house, then.

He does it the way he does that type of stuff:

Reckless and direct.

“You’re welcome in any place of the Tower, hot-stuff,” he gestures to his surroundings with a smile. “Though I wouldn’t recommend going to Natasha’s floor without warning her.”

Barnes does not answer him, not even to shoo him away, and that’s kind of what he expected. Tony’s smile is as real as it had been before.

“Let me see what else you’d need to know,” he holds his own chin and makes a thoughtful face. “Well, the workshop is always open, and any time you feel comfortable with the thought of letting someone touch that--” arm who couldn’t be more obviously broken even if Barnes tried to rip it off. “--you can talk to me. Though I think that you might find out that sometimes you have to ask for help because it’s fucking you up. There is a mysterious voice in the ceiling--”

“ _I could kill you_ ,” Barnes interrupts him.

“--who is my son. Kind of. His name is JARVIS--”

“ _No one would find your body_ ,” Barnes continues. He’s speaking Russian. It’s a pretty sound.

“--and he’ll help you if--”

“ _No one would know_.”

“--you need him,” he claps and turns his smile in something more childish. “That’s all I can remember for now. How do you want me to call you?”

Barnes blinks, and this time, he doesn’t keeps threatening him.

He’s silent.

Tony nods, humming.

“Give me your answer later,” he says. “JARVIS will give you the directions to my workshop if you ask him. There is some banana milkshake on the fridge, try it, you won’t regret doing it,” Tony comes closer to the elevator. “It’s Barton’s, though, and he can be an annoying shadow when you eat his things, so don’t get discovered, hot-stuff.”

The elevator’s doors open and close.

Inside, Tony breathes.

That was risky.

* * *

 

Barnes was a silent housemate. He wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t hum, wouldn’t sing, but more worryingly -- to Steve and Natasha, at least -- he would move without making a sound.

It was scary, Tony had to admit, when he turned, about to go in an adventure to find one of his pens so he could answer a fan mail from a twelve year old girl, and Barnes was right there, looking to him.

Scary as in he took two steps back and a deep breath.

“Why everyone keeps doing that?” Tony shook his head. “Is it not public knowledge that I have heart problems?”

“James,” Barnes said.

Tony blinked.

“What?”

Barnes looked to him, seeming unimpressed with everything, and completely not-guilty.

“Everyone calls me Bucky or Barnes,” Tony has been doing the latter one in his thoughts. “Call me James.”

“Oh,” he nods. “Okay, James. Thank you for giving me an answer.”

Barnes, or James as he asked Tony to call him, looks weirdly…

Pleased.

Tony is probably seeing things.

Maybe the guy is just not used to hearing someone tell him they’re thankful for something he did.

* * *

 

They become unexpected friends after that. Tony begins to do the one thing he shouldn’t do: forget his problems.

Which would be the need to see a therapist.

He gives James -- not calling Rhodey that finally paid off -- new experiences. Clothing, foods, drinks and even dancing. They begin doing everything together.

He was ready to have the silent, creepy shadow near him in places he went to, because even like that, James felt like an interesting person to him. But when they are together, James begins giving him more and more smiles, getting comfortable.

Sometimes a woman or a man will stop to talk to Tony, but they’ll go away right after, and although James looks innocent enough, Tony can’t help but think…

Well, probably not, being jealous… James doesn’t seems the type of person to do that.

Specially not of him. It’s probably just him getting used to the outside world and fearing that someone who approaches them will hurt them.

Steve approaches him one day, when he leaves James in the workshop -- him and DUM-E alone, now that’s _risky_ \-- and is on his way to the kitchen, because they ate all the chips down there already and he wants to know what the people are eating.

“Can I help you?”

Cap has a healthy tone of red in his cheeks. He bites his lip.

“Cap? Capsicle? Rogers? Steve? Stephan?” Steve lets out a laugh at _Stephan_ and Tony smiles.

“It’s nothing,” he sighs and shakes his head.

“Oh, no,” Tony tries to make his tone be friendly and pacific, because he dislikes misunderstandings, even if he accidentally creates them sometimes. But that’s just how life is. “You begin, you finish.”

He receives a tense smile.

“You and Bucky are… Friendly with each other.”

“We are,” he agrees. Then, there is a metaphorical _click_ in his head. “You two…?”

The healthy tone of red gets a bit worse.

“No,” good. Not… Not like Tony would mind if they… After all, they have so much more history together than Tony has ever had with anyone. The comics are about Captain America and his young ally Bucky. Tony wouldn’t mind. “It’s just… _You_ two are friendly, you know.”

“We aren’t dating,” they are coming closer, though they’re not there yet. “If that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Well,” Steve couldn’t sound more skeptical if he tried. “You two are flirting.”

“We’re not,” Tony insists. “We’re just friends.”

Cap gives him a smile. Not any smile, no, but the _I’m right and you just don’t know that yet_ smile Tony recently found out he had.

“Okay, then,” he says. “But if your friendship becomes more than friendship, just… Be careful.”

Tony blinks.

“I wouldn’t hurt James, you know. I might be a playboy, but there’s a reason you read about me doing one night stands and not relationships.”

He also knew how being cheated on felt.

How it felt when he put his energy, time, and as childish -- or not -- it might sound, his heart in a relationship only to find out someone cheated on him…

Tony knew how it hurt.

“It’s not...” Steve can be bad at personal discussions, even if he’s good at speaking to people, and somehow, that’s not a surprise at all. “It’s just… He’s like the brother I never had,” he sighs. They’re finally getting to the kitchen. “But we’re still unable to trust him. We need to find his triggers. And if he’s coming back… He might’ve changed, of course, but the Bucky I knew jumped from girl to girl. Be careful,” he seemed to have taken a heavy weight from his shoulders. “I like both of you, and I don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

He leaves Tony in the kitchen, by himself. It’s hard to believe that this was not a shovel talk.

It’s even harder to believe that someone who was not Pep or Rhodey, someone who was the representation of _honor_ and _good men_ and the things a child would never become during his childhood is worried about…

Him.

The air is doing strange things to Captain America. That’s a scientific worry in an area Tony is not so good at.

* * *

 

Were they flirting or did Cap put things in his head?

Since they had that talk, Tony had a weird feeling. He began to look at situations that were normal and friendly through different lenses, and now, it was…

Weird.

James was still as silent as he was, but when he was with Tony, they’d talk. Anything could become an interesting subject if they tried hard enough.

James avoided people, but he’d come to the workshop by himself, even when Tony hadn’t talked to him the entire day.

And the arm.

There were some people who used to work for SHIELD as nurses and doctors, and who got used to deal with things that were not flesh and bone.

One very specific therapist tried to talk to Tony whenever he saw him.

Anyways. The Black Widow had many impressive things surrounding her person, but the most impressive thing -- Tony is talking in work terms, by the way, because Natasha’s cooking and how she’s still trying to convince him to accept her fighting lessons are impressive too. And heart-warming. Somewhat. She can’t find out about the heart-warming part -- about her was how she analyzed a situation or a person when she was trying to.

And that was not about the _Tony Stark: not recommended_ thing, actually, since he had put up that mask in first place. If the persona had been created recently, and not molded from his childhood to his forties, he’s sure Natasha would notice something sooner.

No. That was about the months of analyze she had no trouble showing him and Clint. Old missions.

She cracked down everything she could about someone. She needed time for that.

So, The Black Widow herself picked doctors and engineers who could be trusted with SHIELD stuff, but who were not SHIELD.

They told him that the man, sitting peacefully in the couch Tony has in his workshop, was pacific in the beginning, but that he became feral as they moved deeper.

Which wouldn’t do, because James’ arm was… Tony wouldn’t say that it was shit, no, because for something created in the 1940s it was pretty good and advanced, taking all the weight of HYDRA from it, but after the fight he had with Steve?

It was shit.

“Hey, pal,” he entered his workshop, despite Steve’s worried face. “Heard you smashed someone’s face.”

James snorted, though he looked guilty after doing that.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Well, you know the thing mothers say when you do something wrong to someone? It’s not me who you have to ask for forgiveness,” he walked to the couch and sat by James’ side. “I don’t blame you.”

He blinked.

“No?”

Tony shook his head, hoping his tone was not patronizing. Because that was really not something he liked, not directed to him, and he’d rather not be like that to someone else.

“I’m pretty sure I could react similarly if someone tried to touch this,” he tapped the area above his heart. “The reactor is not here anymore, but if anyone touched me there, I think I’d have a panic attack, as pathetic as it might sound.”

James nodded.

Tony asked him what he was feeling. He decided to let James answer if his arm was _hurt_ _ing_ or if it was okay.

 _Hurt_ _s_ , he said, and then Tony asked if he would mind letting Tony see it, and he said the truth:

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want it,” with a serious tone, because that was serious. “And you can stop it any time you want.”

James accepts, and Tony can see Steve’s terrified look, and how both him and Natasha -- the others hiding comfortably in their own room, though he has a feeling Bruce is in his own lab -- look ready to enter a fight.

The three of them are surprised at how James only clenches his fist sometimes.

His eyes are not full of panic, anger, guilt or whatever. Not glassy. They are looking to the ceiling, and from their look to his body language, James seems to be here.

Completely.

Tony talks to him about Afghanistan. The strategy actually works, because James looks even more aware -- the not-panicking type of aware -- of everything around him, like he’s seeing things differently, with more…

Clarity.

Tony doesn’t lets out too much. He just talks about the reactor. And how he felt.

It’s enough for their bond to become stronger.

* * *

 

They start going out. Tony, and no one knows that because they’d all be a pain in his ass, builds a gun. Something purposely made to feel... To be perfect in James’ hands, something that will feel weird to anyone else. A handgun.

James takes it with him, wherever they go, and Tony lets it happen, because James is always so much calmer like that. The crowd doesn’t bothers him as much.

They go to museums and art galleries. Concerts, stand-up shows. Dancing lessons and cooking lessons and baking lessons and if James asked him for a fake ID and a fake backstory to go to college, Tony would give him.

It’s a joke, but he puts a paper sheet in front of him with math counts, without noticing, and when he comes back, James did the counts.

And the best part?

They’re _right_.

Tony has someone to talk to in mathematical terms.

And although all of this might be considered romantic through the right lenses, what really makes Tony stop and say “Holy shit, Steve was right, we’re flirting” is the day he goes down to his workshop and there is a bouquet of red roses on top of one of the tables.

“Sir,” JARVIS announces. “It seems Sergeant Barnes has gave you the exact number of ninety-six roses.”

Ninety-six.

James’ age.

“Must have been hard,” and Tony is sure there is no way James know what bouquets do to him.

He received one or two his entire life, because everyone seemed to think it was too feminine. But...

Tony holds the bouquet and he’s almost crying.

Bouquets are the gifts he’d never get tired of receiving.

“They’re flowers,” he announces. “JARVIS, they’re not plastic.”

“I believe Sergeant Barnes thinks that plastic flowers are a romantic offense.”

They’re _flowers_. It’s ninety-six of them.

James thought about it.

He thought about Tony.

* * *

 

They don’t say they love each other. They don’t ask each other if they’re dating, or if they’d like to.

It just comes naturally for both of them. Tony makes a playlist of songs he thinks James would like, James brings him another rose. Tony interacts with Natasha or anyone else for too long, too close? James pouts. James begins flirting with people, like he once did? Tony feels like running to him and hugging him because he’s insecure like that.

They are in love, and soon, it stops being weird when someone jokes about them being in a relationship.

* * *

 

There are times Tony can’t sleep because when he closes his eyes, all he sees are the stars, things that were meant to be pretty and not nightmares.

Times where he expects to hear someone saying they should kick him from the team. Times where he drinks everything he can drink.

Times where he drops a cup, and he…

That was pretty bad.

He was exhausted and he dropped one of his favorite cups and it broke and he simply cried.

Natasha and Steve and Clint and Bruce and James and _everyone_ stared at him.

He ran.

_What type of person cries with things like that?_

He could hear their voices.

But it’s okay.

It’s not like it happens often, anyway. Tony is so happy most of the time that there’s no way someone like that has issues.

James comes and follows him, if he’s walking, or sits by his side, if he’s not. They don’t talk.

James just stays where he was.

They are in love, and it’s so strong that sometimes it’s the only thing that is keeping him happy.

He notices how James’ body loses its tension when Tony talks to him. How his posture is less straight when he’s relaxed. How James kisses him and how he holds him tight like he’s afraid Tony will run away.

“You know,” he has replied to all the fan mail JARVIS established he can. His hand hurts like hell. “You don’t have to be afraid that I’ll leave you.”

James gives him a confused look. Well, Tony has already began, anyway.

“I mean,” he bites his lip. “If you don’t feel good, or if you feel angry, or if you want to… I don’t know, destroy things, I won’t leave you,” he hides his hands behind his back. He shouldn’t have started it. What an idiot. “You don’t have to put up a mask, James. I love you and I won’t leave you just because you’re not all smiles to me.”

He looks down. He should look to his eyes, to assure James, with his own body language, that Tony is firm about it, but he’s… What if he just destroyed his relationship, somehow?

“Really?” James says. Tony is expecting _You love me? I thought both of us were only aiming to the sex_ or _Why are you assuming things about me? You’re expecting things from me? God, I can’t believe you_ or anything, to be honest. “What if I’m creepy?”

His heart is a little bit relieved, he’ll admit.

He shrugs.

“I just want the real you,” he says. “Even if you’re creepy. Even if you’re, I don’t know, someone who has a real hard time with feelings, but for some reason, likes me. I just want you to be the real you. I’ll love whoever you are,” Tony frowns. “God, that sounded like things girls used to say when I was a teenager.”

James doesn’t snorts, like he normally would, but he shakes his head and the corners of his mouth lift up, even though he doesn’t really smiles.

“I don’t mind girly things coming from you,” he says. It’s almost a whisper. “You can be as girly as you want next to me.”

Tony Stark, former playboy, feels a heat in his cheeks.

He doesn’t know if they’re red, or anything, but he knows that they feel hot.

Fuck.

* * *

 

It makes sense that their relationship gets better after that.

Before, it was already good, as far as Tony could tell. It just got...

Better.

Natasha and Steve are worried about their relationship, but also about both of them. Clint and Bruce never say anything to them, and they don’t give them _looks_.

“As far as I can tell, it’s none of my business,” Bruce explained how he saw them. “If it ever becomes my business, well, The Hulk will have a talk with him.”

“You seem awfully certain he’ll be the trouble,” Tony murmured. A bit defensive, maybe. “I have the backstory.”

Bruce shook his head, in a mixture of fondness and disbelief.

“Not for that, you don’t,” he looked to him. “I hope it never goes down that path, but if it does...”

“I’ll talk to you as fast as I can,” Tony assured, trying to sound firm and serious. That was never a joke matter between them. Hell, as much as everyone got uncomfortable when Tony joked about his father -- a drunk rarity. He didn’t did that too much -- Bruce was the one who he tried to avoid when he had the infamous _Tony Stark Versus Howard Stark_ nights.

It’s all about avoiding giving his friend bad memories.

Not to mention that Bruce seems to be able to read his soul. It’s a good thing he’s not that type of doctor, he’s not a therapist, because if he were, he’d give Tony the talk.

“It’s not your fault,” and cliche stuff like that.

James is much more like a shadow than he was before, and he keeps giving Tony his little smile, and seeming more comfortable around him.

And it feels good, because this is his boyfriend, who he really is.

It might include Tony going to a meeting with Pepper and the board directors and going out and realizing James was waiting for him, though he has no idea how he even got there, but this is his boyfriend, and he’s worried about him.

They become closer and closer. Tony spends days in the workshop or in his own room, thinking about what to do, watching videos on YouTube, and James is so happy when he does that.

It makes sense.

Steve dislikes it, though.

“You have to go out more,” he says. “Interact with people.”

“I’m interacting with people,” Tony replies, a bit pissed off, because he’s not a fucking child, thank you very much. “I interact with James daily.”

“People aside from Bucky, Tony,” Steve sighs. “You haven’t talked to me or to Nat or to Bruce in a month.”

A month?

  
“That’s an exaggeration.”

“JARVIS?” his own son will betray him.

“I’m afraid the Captain is right, sir.”

JARVIS sounds like he doesn’t cares too much.

Good.

“Look,” he huffs. “Why would it matter? I’m happy. He’s happy.”

Steve opens his mouth, but Tony goes away, because patronizing and Steve aren’t a good match and Steve is already under his fucking skin.

* * *

 

He holds his tears.

He should really find a therapist.

* * *

 

It keeps going on. His relationship with James never turns bad, never turns sour, even when _Clint_ is worried about it. It’s like all of them expect both of them to fuck up, because Tony Stark, the playboy, can’t know how to treat someone, right? And James, they think James is violent and a murderer, they think he’s a _monster_ and he can see it in how they talk.

But James is a sweetheart and probably one of the best things that ever happened to Tony, together with Pepper and Rhodey.

They all keep bothering him, and he holds his tears, because it’d be shitty of him to lash out at them like that, right?

He holds them, holds and holds until he can’t, not anymore.

* * *

 

Natasha never got to her lessons. Something would always interrupt them before they even started.

She walks to Tony, together with Steve, one day. He already knows that they’re going to do their thing.

Steve starts, like always.

“Tony, is everything okay?”

He nods.

The small talk goes on and Tony can feel the tension in his body, because he knows it’s coming.

Then, it happens.

“I think you should be more careful,” Steve tries to sound very pacific. This is not like him. Usually, he says what he has to say. “I mean… We haven’t found Bucky’s triggers yet. You two are always too close, we never get the chance to talk to him.”

Tony blinks.

“You could talk to him with me near you, I wouldn’t mind.”

Be careful. Careful. Careful, Tony. Careful, little Tony, you’re so dumb.

He clenches his fist. It’s okay.

It’s Natasha’s turn.

She looks to him, silent.

They look to each other like that for minutes.

She gets closer to him. He’s uncomfortable with how close she is. Their noses are almost touching.

He knows what that is.

She has something to say, something he’ll dislike to hear, so she’s cornering him, to obligate him to hear and not to run away.

Very clever--

“Break up with him.”

He blinks.

“What? I won’t--”

She turns to Russian.

“ _That is not Bucky_ ,” she tells him. Steve looks nervous, but he does nothing to help Tony. “ _Steve knows Bucky better than anyone, and trust me, Stark, I know The Winter Soldier better than anyone. I didn’t told this to Steve because you know how he’d get_ ,” she walks, and he’s forced to take a step back. One, two. It doesn’t matters. His back touches the wall now. “ _He’s getting worse, each day. I’m not telling you to leave him forever. But you have to break up with him, because that man you see? Not only he’s not Bucky, but he’s planning to do something. He’ll hurt you._ ”

He can barely breathe when she takes some steps back, but that’s not his focus.

His focus is on what she said.

“He won’t,” and it was too much, he’s aware of that. The tears beginning to fall from his eyes tell him that. “You don’t have the right to say that-- he’s a good man--”

He knows she’s saying the truth.

Maybe not everything she said is true, but that is her honest opinion about it, and he knows he should hear.

But James. James is so good. He’s a good man, even if a bit creepy.

He won’t hurt him. He’s not Tony’s own father. He’s not Obadiah Stane.

He won’t hurt him.

They leave, and before leaving too, to go to his room, Tony hears Steve’s voice.

“Are you sure that was necessary?”

“I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t.”

* * *

 

Tony called Pepper and asked her if she had any meeting he could go to.

“Are you crying?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

There was one, she said, and she’d wait for him there.

The call ended.

Tony looked to his hands in silent. His tears dried.

“Tony?” James called him. “What happened?”

He took a deep breath. It was okay.

“It’s nothing,” he told him. His tone was less firm than it usually was when he said he was fine. This is his lucky day, honestly.

James sits next to him, in the mattress.

“What happened?” he repeats, holding Tony’s hand.

How? How can Natasha look at this man and say that he’ll hurt Tony? Say that he’s planning something? He won’t talk about their relationship -- the one between Natasha and James, that is -- or about her life, she’s her own boss, and it’s…

It’s expected that she won’t like James, so he understands it. A bit.

But how? How can… How can anyone say James will hurt him?

If Natasha was Pepper, or Rhodey, okay. He’d understand. But…

Whatever.

He told James about it. He was not in the mood to relive it all, so he limited it to some parts. _Steve and Natasha were worried_ , he says. _Steve kept saying I should be more careful. And Natasha thinks we should take a break from each other._

James caresses his back.

“It’s just...” Tony shakes his head. “Sometimes I just get tired of it, you know? I get tired of all of them.”

It’s too overwhelming, at times. They all like him to some degree, but sometimes, it’s too much.

Sometimes he just wants to lie in his bed the entire day.

He’s tired of the people around him. Not as in he had enough of them. He just gets so exhausted because he likes them and they like him and he knows he has to interact with them but it’s hard.

And then, Natasha just says that to him, like she’s talking about the weather…

He kind of broke.

James keeps caressing his back. It’s nice.

“I have a meeting,” Tony murmurs. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

James nods.

Tony kisses his cheek.

* * *

 

He took a bath, changed his clothes and called Happy to see how he was.

The bath already made him feel better, but after the meeting has ended, Tony feels like…

“Like a human being again,” he jokes to himself.

“When were you planning to tell me you had a boyfriend?” Pepper asks, playfully. Tony giggles.

“One day,” he replies. “I guess.”

“Before you died, I bet,” he nods.

Tony was aware, even if he ignored it, that he needed a therapist, but that day he realized he _needed_ one. Looking back, he felt ashamed of his reaction.

Of course, it’d be better if Natasha didn’t invade his personal space, but he’s aware that she…

She doesn’t really knows how to approach things like The Winter Soldier or relationships she thinks are going sour in her manipulative, sweet way.

She’s a Black Widow, but she’s also Natasha Romanoff.

Sometimes, both conflict.

He still thinks she’s overreacting. James is just slightly creepy.

That aside, he already has an appointment with a therapist.

“Thank you for coming here with me,” Pepper gives him a sweet smile.

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” she says. “But you’re welcome.”

Tony sees a flower store some steps away.

“You can go back to your home,” he remembered the bouquet that was still in his workshop, though it was in a vase full of water now. “I think I’m gonna buy something.”

She chuckles.

“See you later, Tony,” he nods.

He searches for it. James might not care for the meaning of flowers, but Tony does.

He finds it.

* * *

 

Mother used to say that forget-me-nots meant true love. Undying love.

To forget what had happened earlier, and to give something he liked to someone he liked, he held the bouquet in his hands.

He could imagine Steve saying he was happy that Tony finally choose to do something about his mental health. The prideful face only Cap could have.

He sighed.

They’d solve it and he’d show Natasha and Steve they had nothing to worry about.

He opened the door, only slightly.

“Buckaroo?” he called. He never called James by the ‘Bucky’ nickname, but ‘Buckaroo’ was… His own invention. He let it out once and James never complained, so he kept using it. Only when he was specially happy or had a surprise, really.

Tony opened the door--

He stopped.

He let the bouquet fall.

What…?

That was not a prank.

Was it?

No.

It looked too real to be a prank.

Tony knew he was about to cry. He tried to do it only when he was alone, but--

They’re--

They’re dead.

Dead.

They--

They are--

They were not supposed to ever die--

Tony took a deep breath. He saw that James was sitting in the couch, and he was breathing. He needed to keep focused, because whoever had…

They were _dead_.

Whoever killed them couldn’t just have escaped, right? They must’ve been somewhere near the Tower still.

He can already see it. They were going to kill them all, but when they were about to kill James, Tony called him and they ran.

Yes.

That was it.

“What...” he took another deep breath. They were dead, dead, he’d never talk to any of them again, and it was not a prank because they’d never joke about this-- “What… What happened here?”

He tried to keep his tone… Pacific. Tried to avoid scaring James.

He took one more deep breath, and looked to James, covering his mouth with his hand. His boyfriend… His team…

They were important, but the person who did this must be around.

“Are...” he takes another deep breath, can’t help but take them, feels like he can’t breathe. “Are they here?” he whispers.

“Who?” James asks, his tone neutral.

He must be in Winter Soldier mode.

“The person who--” he looked to the bodies on the floor again. It didn’t look real. It didn’t felt real. Maybe it was all a nightmare. “The person who made you do this. Or the people-- I’m gonna put the suit on--”

“No one made me do this,” James replies, finally, and stands up. Tony blinks. “I did this myself, doll.”

He announces it like a child who did a good drawing talks about that to their mom. So proud.

No.

No, that’s not…

That can’t be...

If they…

If they’re really dead, that can be real, Tony can see a world where this is real, it’s not pleasant, but he can.

But James?

James would never do it, not if he didn’t felt threatened, and there was no way he would. James would never say that he killed someone with such a proud voice. That was not James, that was not the man Tony loved, that was not the man--

Natasha warned him.

She warned him and he ignored her.

That was not James.

It was… It was The Soldier. James never called him doll, did he? It was The Soldier. It was not James. It couldn’t be James.

He… He could put the suit on, but they…

Steve brought James back with his name, with his looks, because James remembered him. Maybe…

Maybe it’d be more useful to talk to him. Try to make James remember something.

Fighting would only make The Soldier feel like he was threatened, and then he might kill Tony, and then whoever made him do this would surely be possessive of something they considered a useful asset.

He tries to analyze it as quick as he can, but in the end, he has to side with hope. Lucky doesn’t exists, so he has to side with the hope he has that it’s going to be okay.

Not _okay_.

But James will come back.

James is strong.

“It’s okay,” Tony tries. He knows he sounds uncertain because he never lied about something like that. “Look, Buckaroo, why don’t we… I don’t know, hum, why don’t we sit and you try to explain what happened to me?”

James -- The Soldier -- smiles and sits again. Tony comes next to him, sitting. His hands are shaking.

“I never liked The Avengers too much,” he starts. “Too unprofessional. Thinking they knew better. I looked to you all like enemies, you know?” it makes sense. To someone like The Winter Soldier, at least. “But you were different.”

“I was?” his voice is weak.

“Yes,” The Soldier has a tone he shouldn’t have. It’s too… Too fond. Too human. He shouldn’t sound like that, right? “I heard too much about you. Before we met, I mean. They said you were a big threat, and I couldn’t understand how someone without training, who worked alone, could be a big threat. And then, we met.”

Tony nods.

“We did,” he agrees. He has no idea why is he even speaking to The Soldier.

No. He has.

He needs to find out about what happened.

“I saw it, then. You were so powerful. I was impressed. So powerful and smart,” it was too fond, too fond, he had a feeling The Soldier was saying something James would say just to fuck with him. “You gave me my sanity back, as far as I can have it. You gave me little orders and you never feared who I was and you didn’t expected me to be something I wasn’t.”

He feels sick.

His stomach agrees.

“But you liked them so much, and you became my sanity. You became the only thing that kept me here. So I knew that killing them would backfire, you know?” Tony is feeling like he’s about to have a heart attack, like he can’t breathe.

“What changed it?” he whispers.

“You told me you were tired of them.”

Tony stopped.

He told…

He told him…

He killed them.

Tony killed them. He was the fucking reason they were all dead.

But James must be scared, inside of himself, or seething. Tony… Tony needs to focus on that first.

“It’s...” he tries to breathe. “It’s okay, it’s okay. We can… We can solve this, Buckaroo,” he didn’t believed they could. James would feel so guilty. And they were all dead. They were all dead. Dead. “You just… You just have to come back to me.”

James blinks.

But then, he grins.

“I don’t think a dead man can come back to life.”

No.

No. That can’t be the truth.

It’s not.

It’s not.

It’s not the truth, it can’t be the truth, it can’t.

The Soldier wrapped both of his arms around him. It was so fucking tight, Tony couldn’t breathe. It hurt. He was pretty sure The Soldier could break one of his bones if he hugged him more tightly.

“I’m yours,” he said. Tony tried to think about what to do. He needed to bring James back, he needed to find a way to do it, he couldn’t give up. Not from that. Never from that. “So I made you mine.”

He didn’t.

He didn’t, did he?

Tony was already his. What does ‘mine’ means in this context?

It meant that Tony’s team was dead?

It--

Oh, God. It meant exactly that.

And The Soldier wouldn’t fucking be triggered if Tony hadn’t told him he was tired of his team.

He could phrase it so much better. Why didn’t he?

He looked to the bodies in the floor.

They were dead because of him.

He felt a kiss in his cheek. He was pretty sure The Soldier smelled his hair.

Why?

Why couldn’t he hate Tony instead of…

He didn’t knew.

Loving him?

“We’re going to be together forever,” it sounds like a promise. Tony can’t move, because he’s not sure he can avoid a broken bone if he does, and it won’t be useful in any way to have a broken bone. But he can’t breathe. It’s so tight. “Just you and me.”

**Author's Note:**

> The information, aka spoilers:
> 
> 1\. bucky barnes is a lie. post-hydra bucky, in this specific au, at least is. don't believe on his (the soldier's) lies!
> 
> 2\. tony and the soldier/bucky don't die. thor also doesn't. everyone else has a less than happy fateTM
> 
> ...i think that's all? for now, at least. if i remember anything i'll edit the notes.
> 
> also:
> 
> scishow exists. as far as i know, it's a nice channel.


End file.
